Games We Play
by TheSouthernScribe
Summary: Temptation eventually overcomes us all.


_I know I've been M.I.A. but the muse is holding on for dear life...there are a few things that I've been working on in the background that you may or may not see eventually..._

_Thank you to the ladies of WA...hugs and kisses my lovelies_

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**_Games We Play_**

"Show me." McCoy watched Uhura's lips form the words before her mouth circled the neck of the bottle. He imagined how those lips would feel on the sensitive tip of his… "Stop stalling and show me." Her words interrupt the illicit thoughts manipulating his mind and body.

They're drunk. The alcohol is in control and for McCoy that's a rarity. He's expertly handled his liquor since the age of eighteen when he first snuck into his uncle's moonshine. Now somewhere between this woman's smile – her legs that stretch for miles - cheap bottled gin – he's on the verge of sin. One that he'll refuse to repent and pay penance for once the commission has occurred.

Show me yours and I'll show you mine that is the name of the game. Embarrassment is not a concern. The sight of little McCoy has always been welcomed by widened eyes and open mouths that dripped with anticipation. He's sure her response won't be any different. Yet that introduces a new question to the internal debate warring within his mind. Does he want to fuck Nyota Uhura while she's inebriated, depressed, and incapable of making a logical decision? Hell now he sounds like the half – Vulcan that's off radar and the cause of this grim situation.

Against his better judgment, McCoy's hands inched towards his zipper. Nyota's breath hitched and now her tongue is circling the spout of his bottle. At this stage of the game, he'll even jerk off if she'll keep the motion going, the one where her tongue snakes counter clockwise around the bottle before she opens wide and allows the clear liquid to slide down her throat. _Does she swallow?_ The thought is banished from McCoy's mind, there's only one lucky enough to know the answer to that question.

He's partially erect. The whole talented tongue show coupled with his deviant thoughts has caused the blood to swell to his underused organ. The doctor's eyes close. He's clumsily fumbling with the slit in his boxers. He's forgotten the original intent to reveal and watch her bask in the glory of what she won't allow herself to enjoy. His fingers circle the tip of his dick and he allows his thumb to run over the slick opening.

"What are you thinking about?" Her voice slips into a seductive whisper. Her weight shifts and he hears the bottle clatter as it hits the tiled floor.

"You." It's a strained response. His energy is divided between finishing what his right hand has started and avoiding the overwhelming desire to take her then and there. McCoy's lids lift and the view threatens to force him over the edge. Nyota Uhura on all fours crawling in his direction and all he can do is hold on to the cock that's twitching and begging to be buried in her warmth.

Nyota's eyes fall to McCoy's hand. She shadows his motions as he strokes up and down his shaft panting as he grips the head.

Now he plays voyeur, taking in the movement of the delicate hands drifting under the skirt of her uniform. His heart is pounding and the pressure in his groin is swelling. He sees a flash of white lace and he swears he can smell her.

"What do you want to do to me?" They've locked eyes, neither will look away.

"I want to spread you and have you for dinner." His voice is deeper almost a growl in his chest.

She moans and one hand disappears between her thighs. She's rocking back and forth on her fingers. "Is that all?"

"Hell no." The words tumble out of his mouth.

"Tell me…" He can't hear a sound so he reads her lips.

"I can show you a hell of a lot more than I could ever tell you." The decision has been made. No more of this bullshit game of torture.

"That's not an option." She's biting her bottom lip and her voice quivers when she speaks. He could make that so much better than any of her digits ever could. Why won't she let him touch her?

"I want to get under your skin." The mischief flees her eyes and her lips part and a gasp escapes. "When you see me every inch of your skin will burn and long only for my touch." Tucked away with his pants zipped there's confidence surging within. He's sobered and ready to call her on the treacherous playground shenanigans she's utilized. "This is twisted and you're playing because _you're_ not getting what you _need_. I'm a man Nyota, not some prepubescent child that gets a hard on with the flash of your panties. Save this shit for Jim or mind fuck the Vulcan. When you grow the hell up, come and find me, then I'll make you feel things you never imagined were possible."

***

_Two weeks._

_Fourteen days. _

That's how long it took for Nyota to seek out McCoy. No words passed between them only an acknowledgement in the form of her lips meeting his. Once this line is crossed there's no turning back. She can't walk the corridors of the Enterprise and play innocent and adoring girlfriend. There's hesitation in her kiss. No doubt she's considered the repercussions of her actions and the weight of the decision is heavy on her heart.

"You need this." His lips caress her ear and she shudders. The fight dies and she yields to his domination.

Her hands are elevated above her head. Her back pressed firmly against the wall. She winces from the pain caused by his tight grasp yet the fingers of his free hand are surprisingly delicate as they skim the curves of her face. With a dip of the head his cool lips press against the flutter of her pulse. It's a beautiful contrast. Intoxicating and yes exactly what she needed. Nyota feels tainted and treasured in the same breath.

Without question Nyota's legs snake around McCoy's waist. Her sex throbs with the smirk that adorns his face under the realization that her backside is bare.

"No more games lieutenant." It's an order.

The peel of his zipper a soothing lullaby to her ears as he enters her in one fluid motion. Her body is stretched and contorted to fit his length. He's fucking her but the words he murmurs in her ear are those of a worshipper – her lover.

He thrusts.

She cries.

They go on like this for an unspecified length of time; neither destroying the wall between them.

"I want under your skin." The words are said through clenched teeth.

Memories and images flood her mind's eye. The laughs they shared at the Academy. The nights he held her as she cried over the growing distance between her and the man she believed she loved. Those final hours on the observation deck when he sat silently praying to a God he didn't know personally that Nero would be destroyed and Spock returned to her.

He was under her skin…

In her heart…

Linked to her soul…

"You've always been there." And like that the wall tumbles to the ground. Friends become lovers and a new game begins.


End file.
